by B. B. Miller
Murphy’s Law No. 10: Need and want… It’s a fine line.
Sean
MY LIFE USED TO EXIST in a steady flow of blissful uncertainty. No real focus or plans unless they centered ’round the band and whatever performance or event we had to attend. I loved it. I loved the randomness of it all. The unexpected. Craved it, even.
Now, I know I existed entirely for my own gratification and for that of our fans. Trending on the razor edge of recklessness fueled my every move. Syd was right. I had no clue what would hit me when I met her—the one who would change everything.
I get it now because all thoughts and plans have one constant focus. Cassidy has become my center. Her happiness is more important than mine. For the first time in my life, my own existence and happiness is tied to another person. That should scare the hell out of me. Commitment isn’t something I’ve done.
Even as those words rattle my brain, I know they’re a fabrication. You won’t find a more committed friend, bandmate, or brother. I would literally draw blood for my sister and the guys. I have. But a committed relationship with a woman is virgin territory. I snort at my internal rambling as I see Cass emerge from the hallway with Philip and my sister. I’m glad that Cass and Syd get on well. I could have easily blown everything when they first met, and almost did by opening my big mouth. Their relationship has morphed into a meaningful friendship that I know is important to both of them.
My heart beats faster with each step Cass takes toward me. Blood whooshes in my ears, white noise fills the space, and everything else fades away. It’s just like in the cheesy rom-coms Syd and I always end up watching. It’s like Cass moves in slow motion, and when she flashes me that irresistible smile, I feel somehow more complete because I know she’s happy, and by extension then, so am I.
“Sean?” I glance down at Nicole, her trusty tablet waving in front of my face.
“Mmm?”
“We’re live on air in about five minutes.”
“There’s something I need to do first.” I glance back at Cassidy when they stop beside us. I slide my arm around her and she stiffens a bit. It’s not unexpected as the media is out in full force at the academy today. I’ve tried to give her space, and it’s worked as I’ve been busy with meeting the families and posing for pictures, but all bets are off now. I’m not sure I could stop from touching her even if I wanted to.
Cassidy’s eyes dart around the room and she takes a little step back. I feel the force of Nic’s tablet against my chest. “Hey! That hurt.”
“Then pay attention. Five minutes.”
I take in Cassidy’s wary expression. “I’m going to need ten.”
Nic gets an angry look I’ve seen more often than not whenever she’s pissed at us, or me more specifically. “What about live radio is confusing to you? You can’t be late for your own event.”
“I’m not late. I’m right here.” Syd laughs, not helping my case at all.
“Yes, and I need you over there,” Nic hisses through gritted teeth. She waves her arm in the direction of the radio station that’s set up a table on the stage of the auditorium. The announcer’s got headphones on and seems busy working away.
“They’ll be fine for a couple of minutes. There’s a room full of musicians here. Surely they can keep the radio waves entertained in my absence.”
“I swear to God, Sean…”
“Matty!” I yell across the rows of seats to where he’s lounging with his arm draped across the back of the chair Tess is seated in.
He turns when he hears my voice. “What’s up?”
“Collect Lane and Three and keep the masses entertained for a few, yeah?” I nod in the direction of the stage, and he shrugs a shoulder at me, pushing up from his own seat.
“I’m on it.”
I grin down at Nic. “See? Problem solved. Matty and the guys will hold the fort down. You can survive for a couple of minutes.” I take Cassidy’s hand and tug her with me down the hall.
“Sean! Ugh!” Nic’s exasperated voice dies as I march down the hall with Cass hurrying to keep up.
“What are you doing?” Cassidy asks through a laugh, almost breathless as I duck into one of the rehearsal rooms at the end of the hall. It’s filled with gold and black helium balloons touching the ceiling and long dark ribbons dangling in the air.
“Christ. I forgot about these.” I laugh, pushing a few out of the way as I shut the door. “We’re letting these off when we announce the winner.”
Cass stops in the middle of the room, blowing one of the hanging ribbons out of her face. “What’s going on?” She’s got that little coy smile on, her blue-gray eyes almost sparkling at me. She’s perfect in that deep purple dress I’m sure she designed herself. It dips and curves in all the right places, and a wave of lust rolls through me.
“I need you, Cass.” It’s more of a desperate growl than anything else.
She reaches up to her hair, untangling a stray ribbon that’s gotten caught in her bright hairpin. I hope it’s one of the ones I gave her. “What do you need?”
“You. That’s all.”
“So you dragged me down the hall and into the crazy balloon room to tell me that?”
“No. You don’t understand. I need you.” I’m in front of her in two quick strides, and I let my hands curve against her neck. “I’ve never needed anyone before.” Her mouth is on mine then, and I’m kissing her as if I’ll die without the taste of her lips and the feel of her body crushed to mine.
“I need you.” I back her up, shoving balloon strings out of the way until she bumps into the edge of the leather sofa up against the wall. “I ache for you, all the time,” I murmur against her lips between hot, wet kisses. Her tongue, fuck me standing, her perfect hot, velvet tongue glides against mine. Her delicious, sweet taste floods my senses, and I’m gone.
“I love you.” We lose our balance, falling back on the cushions. “No, that’s not right.” She stills beneath me, her hot breath caressing against my face as she leans back.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Love isn’t big enough for what I feel.” Her worry fades, her eyes become glassy. “I can’t explain it, but I have to try before I blurt it out on national radio for half of America to hear.” Her fingers trace the edge of my jaw, and I drop my head to lean closer. “Wouldn’t your father just love that? Talk about inconvenient timing.”
“I don’t think love is supposed to be convenient,” Cass whispers.
“It’s more than love.” I brace my hands on either side of her head, my fingers dig into the cool leather. “I mean, I love my parents, my sister, the guys, but it’s not what I feel for you, not even remotely, because that would be really fucking weird.” She shakes her head, her fingers tracing over my lips. “It’s more like…” I struggle to find the words. “A supernova in my heart.”
She leans back with a little laugh. “That’s like the worst valentine card ever.”
“We could make it a side business. Super cheesy valentine cards. I love you more than bacon, for instance.”
Cassidy moves a wayward balloon string out of the way. “Well, why limit it to just valentines? We can cover all the holidays or just have generically cheesy cards, you know? A picture of a squirrel with ‘I’m nuts about you’ written in glittery font.”
I laugh, dropping my forehead to hers. “This isn’t coming out right. I wanted this to be perfect for you.”
“Hey.” She leans back against the cushions and takes my face between her hands. “You bring me cannoli at all hours of the day. You text me with ridiculous messages to let me know you’re thinking about me. You tell me things you don’t share with anyone else.” There’s a touch of sadness in her eyes. It’s been hard these past few days with all the talk of Kennedy and Abby’s impending bundle of joy, but talking about it with Cassidy has eased the void a bit. I’m still swimming in the sea of bewilderment of unanticipated loss, but every day it gets a little better thanks to her.
She lifts my han
d from the couch and sets it over her heart. I feel her take a deep breath in, the swell of her breast filling my hand. “You’re in here. Always. And that’s not a supernova or some flashy word no one has thought of before. That, Sean, is the very definition of love.”
I run my hand along her waist. “How do you always know what to say to me?”
She gives me a cheeky shrug. “It’s a gift.”
“I know you’re right. Love isn’t supposed to be convenient or make sense at all. You… This has been unpredictable, sheer madness, really, and I want to share every moment of it, of life, with you.” She takes a quick breath in, and I reach for one of the black ribbons, wrapping it around her ring finger. “Marry me.”
“You know, that’s the second time you’ve asked me.”
“And I’ll keep asking until you say yes.”
Her lips crash to mine and she grips the back of my neck to urge me forward. With a flick of her hand, she frees the ribbon and balloon from her finger and then fumbles with my belt until she gets it open. Sighing, she drops her head back to the cushion when my lips tease across her neck. That little sound is everything. She’s home and my own personal heaven.
“Yes,” she whispers, fisting my shirt and trying to tug it up at the same time. I attack her mouth with a groan, feeling her hands shake as she gets my jeans open and pushes them down. My cock practically cries, begging me to sink into her tight warmth.
She gives me a few slow strokes over my hard-as-titanium cock, in complete contrast with our frenzied kisses. I feel my balls tighten already. My hands find their way under her skirt, my fingers waste no time in tracing the outline of her lace knickers to slip them off.
I don’t really want to tease her or take my time, I’m driven by mindless want and need, but I stroke my fingers into her, my thumb dropping a beat onto her clit. The sound she makes when I take her to the edge rides the line between bliss and agony. I know she’s close already. It’s like she’ll cry if I don’t take her.
She arches up to tug at my shirt once more, pulling me back between her thighs, and then I’m thrusting into her, not even pausing to enjoy the feel of her stretching around me. It’s just raw, frenzied fucking. It’s our skin slapping and her skirt bunching up between us, with the sofa groaning and bumping the wall with each snap of my hips.
She lets out a cry and my lips find hers to stifle the sound. I hear one of her shoes drop to the floor when she wraps her legs around me, grinding her hips forward. She murmurs against my ear, half of it I can’t even understand. All I can register is her wanting it harder and faster, and that’s exactly what I give her. When she comes, her sweet pussy milks my orgasm right out of me as I collapse on top of her.
We’re a blissful wreck on the sofa, with ribbons dancing around us and a few decimated balloons in our wake. She laughs against my shoulder, softly running her fingers through my hair. I practically purr like a kitten when she does that. There’s nothing like pure satisfaction.
“It’s been more than ten minutes,” she whispers, dropping a kiss to my chin.
“Mhmm. They’ll manage.” I lean back, trying to smooth out her hair. It’s a lost cause. One look at her and everyone is going to know what we were up to in here, if they didn’t hear us already. Can’t help but feel a little cocky about that.
“You’re going to be my wife.”
Her hands palm over my ass. “Did I say that? I don’t remember saying that.” God, I love it when she’s like this—blissed out and completely content.
“No getting out of it now.” I pause, frowning at the balloons drifting beside us. “I should’ve gotten a ring first.”
“I don’t need a ring.” She pulls at one of the ribbons. “Besides, I have this. It’s all I need.” Cass wraps it around her finger and holds her hand up to the light. “It’s perfect.”
“You’re perfect.” I drop a kiss to her forehead and ease out of her tight clasp. “It’s going to take everything in me not blurt that out, you know.”
“I need to talk to my father,” she says quietly as I tug my jeans up and search for her knickers. “He’s back in DC now. I was planning on going down Saturday.”
“I’ll go with you.”
I find the enticing purple lace on the floor and hold it up in triumph. She laughs and steals them away from me. “I need to do this alone, Sean.”
“Like hell you do. You’re going to be my wife, and I’m not letting you have a difficult conversation like this alone.” I’m aware I sound like a possessive nut job. So be it.
Her eyes widen for a moment before she steps into her knickers. “Most conversations with my father are difficult.”
“All the more reason for your fiancé to be there. Your real one.” She smoothes her hands over her skirt, and I pass her the shoe that fell off. “We’ll take the Pink Tornado. Make a road trip out of it.”
“Pink tornado?” She reaches for the shoe, but I hold it out of her reach.
“Did you not stalk me online yet?”
“Oh, I did, but I gave up after the hundredth picture of you with your arm around a different woman.” Cheeky girl.
“Jealous?”
She gives me a mock pout. “Insanely.”
“Well, my arms only wrap around one woman now.” I pull her against my chest, and she melts against me. “The pink tornado is a vintage VW van I had tricked out and restored.”
I lean back and hand over the shoe. It’s high and black and, Christ, so hot. I hope I can get her to wear those later on when it’s just the two of us, and we’re not under some time crunch.
“It’s pink?”
“Mhmm.”
“That won’t draw attention at all.” She steps into the shoe, and my eyes stay on her legs.
“Aren’t you a saucy little minx?” I take a healthy squeeze of her ass.
“You need to stop. You’re already in trouble with Nicole, and we don’t have time for another round of that.” She glances at the sofa, her cheeks tinged soft pink.
“Fine.” I hold up my hands and take a step away from her. “But tonight, you’re all mine.”
Her eyes run over me in a way that isn’t at all innocent, and then she’s laughing, pointing to my groin. “You might want to do that up.”
I glance down, seeing my belt still hanging open. “Right. Don’t want to draw attention to our clandestine activities.” I fasten the belt and hold my arms wide. “Do I pass inspection?”
She smiles up at me with a nod. Just one look and she’s got me weak-kneed. “And then some.”
“I hope there’s cannoli left over.” She adjusts the top of her dress.
“Forget the music, just eat cannoli?” she asks, and I give her a questioning look.
“What?”
“You know? Like The Godfather? Leave the gun, take the cannoli?”
“I’ve never seen The Godfather.”
She takes a step back like she’s been singed by fire. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Her eyes widen in surprise.
“I’ve never seen it.”
“How is that possible? Hasn’t every man seen it?”
I lean forward to press a kiss to her nose. She scrunches it in response. “You’re forgetting I’m not every man.”
“As if I could forget.”
“We can watch it together. Movie night. I’ll set up a screen on the roof here. We’ll have blankets and popcorn. I can try to get to second base.” I waggle my eyebrows at her.
“Pretty sure you just passed all the bases when you swung for the fences there.” She’s trying hard to contain her smile.
“That can be another one of the cheesy cards brought to you by Supernova Industries. ‘I’d swing for the fences for you.’”
Her laugh fills my heart to bursting, and I press a lingering kiss to her lips. “There’s a loo just down the hall if you want to freshen up. I’ll do the same, and then we can get this show on the road.” I open the door and peek out, hearing music filtering from down the hall. “Coas
t is clear.” I turn back to her with a whisper and find her untangling one of the ribbons.
“Can’t forget this.” Cass holds it up and smiles.
“Would be a crime to misplace your engagement ring.” I really am going to have to get her one. Something perfect, special, unique.
“I’ll guard it with my life. Now go!” She shoos me out the door, her soft laughter fading only when she ducks into the loo. It’s tempting to follow her in there, but she’s right. Nic is going to kick my ass already, but it’s totally worth it.
It’s been a frantic couple of hours, but we’ve finally made the announcement of our program winner, Josh Redmond. Josh is only sixteen but plays guitar like a beast. He’s also been nervous as hell since the announcement. In stark contrast to some of the other students we’ve met tonight who were casually dressed, Josh wears a crisp white dress shirt and a thin blue tie, and constantly adjusts his round wire glasses.
The media is long gone, and there are only a few lingering students and parents left in the auditorium. Josh is still as skittish as a wide-eyed foal.
“Do you mind if we take a picture with the band?” Josh’s father asks Nari and I. Josh has been nudged by his father from the corner of the stage he seemed insistent on cowering in since being showered with balloons and confetti. I have the feeling Josh doesn’t have a lot of friends. I hope we can help with that. The academy is going to have forty students to start with. There’s got to be some kindred spirits for him here.
“If that’s okay with Josh, sure,” Nari says.
Josh shrugs, looking embarrassed, his eyes trained to the floor. “I guess.” He shifts uncomfortably as if he wants the ground to swallow him up.
“It’s not the place for modesty here, mate.” I nudge him in the side as he shuffles forward. “You totally rocked ‘Rev You Up’ in your audition video.”
Josh looks hesitantly at his father who smiles and nods his encouragement. ‘Rev You Up’ is a complicated piece from one of our earlier albums that probably only a handful of seasoned guitarists could do any justice to. “That’s not the easiest song you could’ve picked,” I note.